


Klance modern-day au

by Blueskittles03



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11620809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskittles03/pseuds/Blueskittles03
Summary: Lance gets in a fight with a couple of guys in a bar and ends up getting thrown out with a huge bruise on his face and possible brain damage. Luckily, there happens to be a dark-haired stranger waiting to help him...





	Klance modern-day au

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real attempt at writing fic at all, and I guarantee it's gonna suck ass. I'm sorry in advance!

Lance had gone down to the bar after work. He wasn't planning to get wasted. Just a couple of drinks, he had promised hunk.  
Had he kept it? He thought so. He had just gone up to order his third when…  
When what?  
His head was pounding. The entire left side of his face hurt like a bitch. He was staring at concrete.  
What was going on?  
He wasn't a blackout drunk. At least, not usually. Hunk had only had to carry his ass home twice. Plus, he didn't think he was drunk. He was usually happy when he was drunk, and right now he felt like the exact opposite of happy.  
Okay, lance, he thought. Let's try retracing our steps.  
He had gone down to the bar after work. He had assured hunk nearly 20 times he wouldn't be too drunk to get home. He tried to keep his promise. He'd only had, like, two drinks, right? He was ordering his third when he got punched.  
Oh, right. That explained the pain and dizziness. But why had he been punched? His memories were in bits and pieces, slices of color and sound flashing through his head. He was in way too much pain to make sense of any of it.  
But where was he now?  
Groaning, he pushed himself off the hard pavement. The movement made his head spin. He blinked a few times to clear it, and looked around.  
He was sitting in the back alley behind the bar, where the dumpsters were.  
Okay, so I got thrown out for fighting, he concluded. This would be fun to explain to hunk. He could almost see the look of disappointment on hunk's face when he came home looking like this.  
“Uh, hello?” Lance’s head snapped up, which instantly sent the world spinning again. He groaned, turning more slowly towards the sound of the voice. Had he imagined it?  
But no, he could see a head of messy black hair and a pair of eyes peeking out from behind the dumpster.  
“Shit,” the same voice said. A boy emerged from behind the dumpster. He couldn’t have been any older than lance, and he wearing a red hoodie and black jeans. his long, black hair obscured one of his purple eyes.  
“Hello?” The boy asked, kneeling down next to lance. “How drunk are you? Can you hear me?”  
Lance nodded.  
“Great." The boy said. He leaned in close to lance, tilting lance's head back. "That's one helluva bruise you got there," he said quietly. Lance grunted in agreement. "Am I allowed to ask how you got it?"  
"Fight," muttered lance. "Can't remember specifics."  
"That's not a good sign," the boy said. "Okay. Look, man, you probably don't want to move at all, but in, like, ten minutes that door’s gonna open again and you’re gonna be crushed by a bunch of 25-year-olds with guitars, so you should really get up.”  
Lance nodded again, but didn't move. The boy groaned.  
“Fine,” he muttered, shoving an arm under lance and heaving him to his feet. “Guess we’re doing it this way, then.”  
Somehow, the boy managed to get lance up and over to the other side of the dumpster. Vaguely, lance registered a backpack and notebook. The boy had probably been here awhile.  
The boy unceremoniously dropped lance, letting him crumple to the concrete. Lance heaved himself up again, embarrassed at his helplessness, and managed to position himself somewhat comfortably against the wall. The boy sat down against the wall next to him, moving his bag so it rested against the dumpster.  
“You got a name, drunk?” He asked.  
“Lance,” lance said after a few moments of hesitation. He was having trouble putting words together, and also trying to push back the pounding in his head.  
Oh, hunk was going to kill him.  
“Cool. I'm Keith.”  
Keith... lance liked that name. Or maybe he didn't. maybe he was in shock and everything just SEEMED nice. He studied the boy's face a bit more. He looked vaguely familiar, but in lance's state, he couldn't quite place it.  
Well, lance clearly wasn't going anywhere any time soon, so he decided he might as well make conversation with this guy.  
“What…” lance stumbled over his words, “what are you doing out here?”  
“My brother plays in there,” Keith gestured to the wall behind them, “but i’m not old enough to get in. We only have one car, so I wait here while he plays. No big deal.”  
Lance nodded. It hurt. He stopped nodding. It wasn't too common around here to only have one car, or even none at all. It was pretty easy to get by just walking, and Keith didn't seem to mind.  
Keith pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.  
“You want one?” He asked as he raised a cigarette, unlit, to his lips and held it there, rustling in his backpack for a lighter.  
Lance nodded, then realized Keith wasn't looking at him. “Sure.”  
Keith passed a cigarette and the lighter over to lance. In his state, it took him a few tries to get the thing lit. Alcohol and possible brain damage were not proving to be the best combination.  
"So, what did you do to get that mess?" Keith asked, pointing to lance's swollen eye.  
"Already told you," said lance. "Got punched. Then I got my ass kicked out. Still not sure how I did that."  
Keith laughed. Lance hoped he wasn't blushing, because now that he thought about it, Keith was kind of cute...  
Woah, lance, he chided himself. Reign it in. You're a mess, and he's... wait... how old was he? Lance decided to find out.  
“Now I get to ask a question,” lance declared. Why not turn it into a game?  
“how old are you?”  
"That's a shitty question," said Keith.  
"You got a shitty answer?" Lance shot back.  
“Eighteen,” Keith said, admitting defeat. Lance smirked. “You?”  
“Eighteen," lance answered. (Cute boy was not too young for him!) "You gotta get a fake ID, man.”  
“My brother would kill me. He's overprotective like that," Keith explained, looking down.  
“Ah.”  
“You got any siblings?”  
“Youngest of five,” said lance. “They spoil me sometimes. Got the fake ID from my oldest brother.”  
“You and i have very different sibling relationships," Keith observed.  
“Yeah.”  
They say in silence for a few minutes. Lance wished his head would stop pounding so he could think straight.  
Yeah, like you could ever think straight.  
Lance had to hold his breath to keep from laughing at his own stupid joke. Keith gave him a weird look.  
“Seriously, how much did you drink?” Keith asked. Lance shook his head, not wanting to answer. How the hell was he going to explain this one?  
Suddenly, the door burst open and the alley was flooded with life and chatter. From his seat behind the dumpster, lance could make out the heads of 3 guys, probably in their mid-twenties.  
“Shit!” Keith gasped, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out frantically. He grabbed the notebook that, until now, had been lying abandoned on the ground and shoved it into his bag as the guys came around the dumpster. The guys were all dressed in black, and 2 of them were holding guitar cases.  
“Hey, shiro,” Keith said, clearly trying to act nonchalant. “How’d the show go?”  
“Fine,” one of the guys said. He was the tallest of the three, with short black hair except for a tuft at the front, which was totally white. He had some of the cleanest, sharpest lines lance had ever seen around his eyes. “Who’s this?” Shiro gestured to lance.  
“Dunno. His name’s lance. He was kicked out for fighting or something and was just sort of lying there, so I figured I should move him before you didiots murdered him kicking the door open."  
Shiro gave lance a once-over, but his eyes lingered on the cigarette between lance's lips. Lance was suddenly uncomfortable, although he had no idea why. Shiro knelt down until he was eye level with lance. “Where’d you get that?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette.  
“Keith gave it to me,” lance answered without thinking. Keith groaned.  
Shiro stood up and dragged a hand over his face. “Dude. You’ve gotta stop this,” he said to Keith, whose shoulders slumped in defeat. “Cough up.” He held out a hand.  
Keith didn't look happy about it, but he dug the cigarettes and lighter out of his bag and slapped them into his brother’s hand.  
“No more, dude,” shiro said, tossing both the items into the dumpster. Keith sighed and looked down.  
“How drunk is this guy?” Shiro asked, pointing at lance. Lance would've been offended at being addressed this way had he not been in so much pain.  
“Not drunk,” lance piped up. “Brain damaged.” He pointed to his face.  
“Need a ride anywhere?” Shiro asked, holding out a hand.  
“Yeah, sure,” lance answered, taking it and letting the older guy pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit, his head spinning.  
"Keith, help him," shiro ordered. Keith obeyed, draping one of lance's arms over his shoulder and providing what support he could to the disoriented boy.  
"Car's this way," he said quietly to lance. "C'mon." 

Shiro and keith’s car was an old, beat-up truck. It had probably once been red, but it was so rusted and corroded it was hard to tell. Lance liked it.  
Keith automatically headed for shotgun, while lance pulled open the backseat door, but Shiro held up a hand.  
“Nope. The front seat is for people who don't hide cigarettes.”  
Keith didn't even protest, just sighed and shoved past lance into the backseat. Lance probably would have been embarrassed sitting up front, but he was too tired and in too much pain to care.  
“Where are we going?” Shiro asked lance.  
“Uh… 204 mill road,” lance said. For a minute he’d struggled to remember his own address. Hunk was going to kill him.  
“So, anyway,” Shiro said, clearly trying to break the awkward silence as he drove, "I'm takashi shirogane, everyone calls me Shiro. The idiot in the back there is keith kogane.”  
“Wait… I thought Keith said you were brothers?” Lance asked, confused.  
“We are. Keith’s adopted,” Shiro explained.  
“Oh,” said lance, unsure of what to do next. He decided he’d better introduce himself as well.  
“I’m lance McClain,” he said. He noticed Keith's head jerk up in the backseat, but dismissed it.  
“Mm,” Shiro said, glancing over at lance. “How old are you, dude? You don't seem old enough to get into a bar like that.”  
Lance was tempted to tell the truth, but then remembered shiro’s reaction to the cigarettes and what Keith had said about fake IDs, and decide against it.  
“21,” he lied. “My birthday was a few months ago.” (That much was true. He just didn't say which birthday.)  
“Oh,” Shiro replied.he probably didn't believe lance, but it didn't matter, because at that point they pulled up in front of lance’s building.  
“Thanks for the ride, said lance, pushing open the door of the truck. To his surprise, Keith pushed his door open as well.  
“Let me walk you in,” he said. “I don't really trust you to get anywhere on your own at this point.”  
“That's actually probably correct,” muttered lance. “Thanks.”  
They took the back stairs up to lance’s apartment, mostly because he didn't want to have to walk through the lobby looking the way he did. He fumbled with his key for a solid two minutes before Keith offered to do it for him.  
Lance and hunk's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't small, either. It had a kitchen and two bedrooms, and was brightly lit and filled with the smell of food cooking when lance and Keith walked in.  
“Close the door, lance,” hunk yelled from the kitchen. “Landlady’s gonna kill me if I make it any hotter up here.”  
Lance obeyed, shutting the door with a loud thud. Hunk emerged from the kitchen wearing a spotted apron and holding a spatula.  
“We’re having breakfast for dinner tonight,” he said. “How many sausages do you w-” he trailed off as he noticed Keith.  
"Dude I thought you said you were going to the bar after work, not to class?" Hunk said, looking Keith over.  
"What? I did! Why did you think-" lance stammered, confused.  
"That's Keith kogane, right?" Said hunk. "He's in engineering 2 with us."  
So that's where he had seen Keith before.  
"No, well, yes, this is keith," said lance, "but I didn't go to any classes. We met outside the bar."  
"And by 'outside the bar' I'm assuming you mean they kicked your ass out following whatever happened to your face?"  
Lance sighed. "Keith. This is my roommate hunk. Apparently, we all have engineering together, which I was not aware of. Welcome to our humble home."  
"Is your new boyfriend staying for dinner, lance?"  
"What? Hunk! No! We like, he just..." lance struggled to convey how he felt about Keith.  
“Dude, you look like shit,” Hunk declared. “How do you manage to pick up hot people while looking like shit?”  
“Jesus Christ, hunk, he just gave me a ride home," lance finally managed to say. He was sure his face was on fire, and he couldn't bring himself to look at Keith.  
“Sure, sure. But Is he staying for dinner?” Hunk asked, "cause I can make some more pancakes if-"  
“No! No, he’s not staying for dinner, his brother is outside in the car and he should probably leave right now, right Keith? Wouldn't want to keep shiro waiting!” Lance shoved Keith towards the door.  
“Yeah, all right,” Keith said, standing in the doorway. “See you, lance.”  
“See you.” Lance shut the door.  
“Dude. What. The. Hell.” He turned to hunk, who was practically on the floor laughing.  
"Dude, did you seriously not know who he was?" Asked hunk. "I swear you're staring at him every time I look at you in e2!"  
I was a bit disoriented," lance said defensively. "Right, right," said hunk, still smiling. "On that topic, what the hell did you do to your face?"  
"Oh, yeah, about that," said lance. "That's like, the one part I don't remember."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, damn I wrote like 2000 words. Hopefully it's better than I think it is!  
> Please be merciless with your criticism. I really need to improve.  
> Also this isn't finished, there's going to be a few more chapters!


End file.
